He had a Schwinn Roadmaster
the kind with the fat tank
along the crossbar
that held batteries and
had a little round chrome button
to sound the horn

Some mornings
he let me sit sideways
along that crossbar
he seemed so big and strong
to pedal for the two of us
as we headed for the
Chestnut Street School— 
a first-grader and
a big sixth-grader

That was the last time we were going 
in the same direction at 
the same time
the last time we were on 
the same path

We've traced one another's 
footsteps here and there
crossed paths on other occasions
often out of synch
going to or coming from
different places

There were places 
of learning 
of worship 
of recreation 
of work 
of living— 
a cat's cradle
of our travels
    our quests
through space and time

How glorious 
to recall
a September morning
when we were going 
the same way
as
brothers!

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